A motley crew of guards have been selected for a small caravan heading from southern coastal regions to Ishau. It has not rained for days and now the horizon is dark and angry and will make up for lost time with a vengeance. Our hired hands seem to be sufficient for now. None of them put have their nose where it ought not to be. I do feel a certain instinctual anxiety towards the gnome but he doesn’t seem like he’ll be a problem as long as I can keep my own cool. No, I need everything to go smoothly here. Sissis will see to that. That pea brained brute smiles at me behind those teeth, I feel as if they’ve promised a meal of me if I fail. As long as it is kept secret nothing ill will become of me. At least that much can be said of him, his ignorance keeps him mute.
The others are a bunch of foreigners. They’ve all here for something else but they aren’t sharing. Except that one human that carries the chain, he’s familiar and he speaks with the Tashalaran accent a bit. The halfling too maybe but he stinks of calishits. The elf speaks not, he’s here for something else, this just a byway for him. The guide woman seems friendly, she’s got the stupid look on her face of someone who too fervently loves their deity. Ubtao. A deity whose faithful believe that scalyfolk are his children. She probably infatuated with me for my cold blood. She spends too much time near my wagon though and I shouldn’t trust her. The last one of any note is that priest of Oghma. Perhaps he will be of use to me further along. I will have to see.